Shaken
by ShelBel4383
Summary: Claire goes to a lecture. Bobby and Darien spot Chrysalis. Add earthquake and a generous dash of telepath and mix well.
1. Chapter 1

_**Title: "Shaken"** (courtesy of CritterKeeper- thanks! I was stumped!)_

_**Disclaimer: **Ala WorkerCaste: All of the characters contained herein are the property of USA networks, Stu Segall Studios, Sci-Fi Channel, or someone else who isn't me._

_**Spoilers: **Perchance to Dream, Cat & Mouse, Chrysalis in general_

_I wrote this fic ages ago and have had it up on my site, but decided to finally "break down" and archive it here. Darien-, Bobby-, and Claire-whumping; one brief "adult" situation in Chapter 6. I don't do clever chapter names; it is what it is. Enjoy, read & review, and who knows? Maybe my muse will come back to me.  
_

_-Shel_

* * *

Claire zipped up her jacket and fixed the Official with a steely glare. "I put my request for time off in over a month ago, sir, and there is no reason you should deny it. I'm going, and that's that." She settled her bag over her shoulder and took a step toward the door.

"May I remind you I have one very good reason?" The Keeper froze in mid step but didn't turn around. "I'm the boss."

Claire spun on her heel and gave him a look of utter incredulity. "You'll forgive me for saying so, sir- but at the moment you're being an ass." With that she stormed out the door, nearly running Hobbes over in her haste to depart. "Oh! Bobby! Thank goodness. Could you give me a ride to the convention center? I really don't feel like dealing with parking."

"Uh, sure, I think so," Hobbes stammered. "Fawkes and I were just gonna go and grab some lunch, but- hey Fawkes!" At the end of the hall, emerging from the stairwell, Darien looked up expectantly. "Come on. We got a little detour before we hit hamburger hill."

Fawkes shrugged. "No problem, I'm only starving." Claire frowned at him as the trio turned and headed back down the stairs toward the exit.

"You can't possibly. I saw what you had for breakfast, and that was only two hours ago!" Bobby opened the door and they crossed the lobby.

"That? You thought that was breakfast? That was my mid-morning snack. I ate breakfast at 7:30."

"Yeah- polished off the entire box of donuts," Hobbes muttered under his breath as he unlocked the van.

"What? The super-ultra-mega-size breakfast combo was a little less than super-ultra-mega-sized."

"Darien, I've seen those, they're monstrous!" Claire exclaimed, settling into the seat and buckling her belt. Darien tried to arrange himself comfortably between the seats and finally gave up; until they dropped Claire off he'd just have to put up with his butt on a broken spring and his knees up to his chin. Why was he always the one who had to sit in the middle, anyway?

"Monstrous for a midget," Darien sighed. Claire fixed him with one of her looks and he sighed. "Sorry."

Bobby zipped through traffic with his usual obliviousness and Darien, without the benefit of a seatbelt, went banging from one side of the bench to the other. Yep, he was gonna have bruises tomorrow.

"Right here is fine," Claire urged, pointing to an open spot in front of the hall. There were signs everywhere promoting "renowned telepath Jamie Morgan" featuring the picture of a fairly handsome dark-blond man, and Bobby snorted.

"If my parents named me 'Jamie' I'd change my name." The Keeper glared but Bobby continued on blithely. "I've seen this guy on TV, he's a big fake." He turned to Claire and found himself speared by her expression.

"Pick me up in four hours," she said icily, slamming the van door behind her. Darien was hard pressed to contain a snicker as she stormed around the front of the van and crossed the sidewalk briskly without looking back.

"Ouch," he drawled, sliding gratefully into the seat. Bobby sighed and watched Claire as she went in the double doors and vanished in the crowd inside.

"How the hell was I supposed to know she bought into that crap?"

"I don't know- maybe you should have asked her where she was going before you shot off your mouth."

"Oh, that's very supportive of you, my friend. You're supposed to help me through my times of crisis."

"Help you through your what? Hobbes, you were an idiot."

"An idiot who sees something that he doesn't like."

"What? Where?"

"Back corner, by the tree." Darien looked. Several dark-suited men milled around an equally dark cargo van. All appeared to be fairly young, and the van looked new. As they watched, the group conferred, checked watches, and disappeared at a fast walk around the corner of the convention center. Darien sighed.

"Security? Maybe?" Bobby shook his head.

"Nuh-huh. Security goons are in white- see?" Darien followed Bobby's point and indeed- a guard wearing a very conspicuous white shirt with "Security" in big letters across the back could be seen idly watching the crowd. Darien and Bobby met each other's eyes across the van.

"Chrysalis," they said in unison.

"What's the plan?" Darien asked softly.

"Here," Bobby said, handing Darien a headset and mic, and arranging his own over his ear at the same time. "We follow the Chrysalis goons and call the fat man."

"And then?" Darien settled the tiny speaker in his ear canal and adjusted the mic slightly, hearing his voice both in his free ear and through the headset.

"Play it by ear, my friend." Bobby came through loud and clear, and Darien grinned as his partner checked the clip in his gun.

"That's what I'm talkin' about," Darien drawled, and he and Bobby low fived each other and slipped out of the van. They threaded through the crowd, apart but within eyesight of each other. "What do you think, Hobbes?" Darien murmured.

Bobby, eyes taking in everything around him, shook his head slightly. "No saran wrap yet," he replied. "You didn't have much left, I noticed."

"Crap." Darien dared a glance at his wrist. Less than one quarter full- about 6 minutes of see-through time. "And the Keep is at this… this THING."

"I got you covered, partner." Darien looked up and Bobby flashed the inside pocket of his jacket at him. Something rectangular and chrome winked in the sunlight and Darien sucked in a breath. "Grabbed a refill off the Keep's desk this morning on my way up to the fat man's office."

"God bless you, Bobby." Darien followed Hobbes around the corner.


	2. Chapter 2

Claire entered the restricted room, flashing her special access badge at the security guard posted at the door. Once inside several associates immediately greeted her.

"Dr. Keeply! So glad you could make it," enthused an elderly man, whose badge identified him as Dr. Aaron Sharp. Claire vaguely remembered reading an article by him recently.

"Thank you."

"We're rather unstructured today, I fear. We didn't want to have any incriminating information escape, you know- seating charts, all that. So just find a seat where you can, I believe we'll be starting soon." The elderly gentleman took her by the elbow and ushered her to an empty seat on the aisle, and Claire graciously accepted his help.

Just as she sat down the lights dimmed two times in succession, and Dr. Sharp clapped his hands together excitedly.

"Ah! Here we go! Isn't this exciting?" he enthused, taking the chair across the aisle from her.

Claire smiled indulgently and nodded. "Very." All around her people were sitting down, name badges sporting "Dr." this and "Dr." that. Well, they'd promised a scientific lecture.

A young woman came out on the small stage, holding a microphone. "Hello, and welcome," she began. "My name is Michelle, and I'm Mr. Morgan's assistant. As you'll note, four of your associates-" she gestured at 4 empty seats in the front row- "have been asked to help in today's lecture. They have been accompanying Mr. Morgan since he arrived in the airport this morning to insure that he has had no access to any information regarding any of the attendees of today's program. Mr. Morgan will do a brief demonstration of his abilities and then will submit to several scientific tests, designed to measure his brain patterns and bodily functions while he performs. All data is being recorded for future use and will be distributed to everyone at the end of the program." The young woman's eyes unfocused for a moment, then she smiled. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you- Mr. Jamie Morgan!"

Trailed by four dour-looking men, Jamie strode up the steps to the stage and hugged his assistant. They exchanged quiet words while the four doctors- Claire was assuming they were doctors, they had to be in order to gain access to this lecture- filed across the front of the stage to the four empty seats. Her gaze shifted back to the stage as the assistant stepped down, leaving Jamie alone on the platform.

She'd seen his program on television and knew what he looked like- handsome but not overwhelmingly so, curly dark blonde hair cut fashionably short on the sides and back but slightly floppy on top. He was shorter than she'd thought, his dark long sleeved shirt stretched across slightly bulging biceps as he folded his arms and waited for the general hum around the room to die down.

As it quieted, he brought the microphone to his lips, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth, blue eyes sparkling with something Claire identified as mischief. "Thank you," he said warmly. "I know you all have read the instructions in the program that was mailed to you. I have here-" he picked up a clear tupperware container set on the floor by his assistant, filled with scraps of paper- "the last names of all the attendees registered to attend today's lecture. I will pick one in plain sight to help me demonstrate what it is that I am able to do. So, in the interest of science, I'll begin." He pried the lid off the container and without looking selected one scrap. Setting the container on the floor between his feet he straightened and unfolded the paper.

Claire felt an atypical thrill run through her. Of course it wouldn't be her, she never got picked for anything, door prizes, Secret Santa, anything, but wouldn't it be thrilling if…

"Dr. Keeply."

Claire froze. Jamie was looking right at her, expression expectant. She blinked. "How…?"

"Your name tag," he replied. The gathered MDs twittered, and Claire felt a rush of heat creep up her neck and knew without a doubt she was blushing furiously. Nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear she rose and walked to the platform. His assistant helped her up the stairs and gestured for her to take a seat on the chair someone had set on the stage. Biting her lip, Claire did so, and Jamie stood back for a moment, smile widening.

"Keeply isn't your real name, but with your security clearance it wouldn't be," he stated plainly. Claire suddenly felt panic welling up inside her; perhaps this hadn't been such a good idea after all. Jamie began walking around her and the chair, something she'd seen him do many times on television, eyes narrowed and seeming to see right through a person into the secret dark things hidden inside your brain. She didn't want to think about what he might find in hers.

"Your work is challenging, involving a lot of research," he began, the words starting to tumble out in a rush. "You have some… challenging… co-workers, and a lot of stress."

"That's rather vague," someone in the audience quipped, and Claire found herself smiling despite herself. Jamie grinned and shook his head.

"Right you are," he admitted. "Shall we get a bit more- personal?" He stopped his roundabout pacing directly in front of Claire and faced her fully, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. When he opened them and looked at her, Claire sensed that he wasn't seeing her but what was INSIDE her. "Darien," he said softly, almost dreamily. "You work a great deal with Darien. He is… is he sick? I see syringes, injections- a great deal of them."

Claire nodded numbly, feeling sick herself. She REALLY shouldn't be up here.

"'Oh crap.' He says that a lot." Again, Claire nodded. Jamie looked troubled by something but went on. "And he works with… Bobby. 'My friend.' There's a great deal of affection between them, like brothers- they fight but work very well together. And… you like him. Bobby."

Another snicker went through the room and Claire felt her ears burning again. Jamie suddenly seemed distracted, as though he'd lost his train of thought, and a slight frown creased his forehead. He looked over at his assistant, who shrugged her shoulders helplessly. With a sigh, Jamie looked back at Claire and tried to continue, but after a moment he sighed and gave up. "I'm sorry, but something seems to be interfering. I'll try someone else…"

The lights went out and Claire gripped the sides of the chair tightly. It's just a blackout, she told herself. They happen all the time. They flickered back on, and Claire found Jamie standing next to her, his fingers gripping the chair back, face contorted and eyes staring blindly over the room.

"Something's wrong," he whispered. "Very, very wrong…" The lights went out- and the world tilted sideways.


	3. Chapter 3

_Very short chapter..._

* * *

Darien flattened himself against the wall, breathing harsh in the darkness. He could hear Bobby next to him.

"Hobbes, this isn't good," he murmured, and his partner grunted in agreement. They'd followed the Chrysalis crew into the bowels of the convention center and currently were in a service hallway- unadorned cement and bare pipes hissing and groaning overhead.

"What the hell is going on here?" Bobby muttered, and Darien half wished that someone or something would emerge from the darkness and tell them. He hated the dark- funny thing, him being an ex-thief and most of his prior occupation spent in such murky conditions- but there was one major difference between then and now.

Then he'd had a flashlight. Now he didn't.

He started to say something else but Bobby shushed him. "Hear that?" Hobbes breathed, and Darien cocked his head and listened. Bobby's hand was on Darien's forearm, fingers tightening as Darien began to hear the rumble. It was so low it almost more of a vibration than a sound, and Darien felt his knees begin to weaken.

"Hobbes…"

"Shhh!" Something very far away began to groan- a twisting, metallic groan that made Darien's teeth grind. It came closer and louder, approaching like a freight train, and Hobbes grabbed Darien- unerringly, even in the dark- and threw him to the floor.

Dust shifted down, the floor vibrated- and then it passed. Darien was as near to panic-stricken as he could remember. "What the hell was that?"

"I think it was an earthquake," Bobby replied tentatively.

"Is it over?"

"I hope so."

The floor heaved under them, and Darien could have sworn he heard Bobby shouting something about God just **having** to prove him wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

Screaming pierced her ears and Claire winced, slowly raising herself off the floor. The chair she'd been sitting on was now on top of her, it's legs and hers tangled together. Impatiently, she jerked herself free, ignoring the ripping protest her nylons made. A hand touched her shoulder in the dark and she yelped in surprise.

"Dr. Keeply- it's me," came Jamie's voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." Somewhere out in the hallway an emergency light came on, diffuse light filtering through the airborne dust. She looked up into Jamie's face, his hair grey with dust, a smudge across one cheek, and a slightly bleeding gash above one eye. "You're hurt," she accused him.

Brushing at his brow with the back of one filthy had, he grinned bemusedly. "I'll live." Eyes adjusting to the dark, he cast around the room, gaze seeming to unfocus for a moment. "I think everyone is okay," he said softly, rising slowly to one knee and extending a hand to Claire. "Let's get out of here."

"Here here," she agreed, taking his hand and allowing him to help her to her feet. They threaded through the crowd, Jamie's hand on her back. Just as they stepped through the doorway something behind them groaned, and Claire half-turned in reflex, thinking it was a human sound.

It wasn't. More dust and debris started to fall from the ceiling, and she felt herself pushed forward into the corridor as the groan became a shriek of tortured metal and crumbling concrete. Something heavy landed on her, covered her as more concrete and glass came crashing down, and concrete dust choked the air.

Coughing violently, Claire struggled to get up, found herself unable to move. Bitter fear rose in her throat, and she began to struggle… _trapped, oh dear god I'm trapped…_

"Dr. Keeply! Don't move!" Jamie's voice cut through the terror, calming her panic, easing her fear. She stilled, and suddenly something shifted and she was free. Hands came down, grabbed, lifted, carried her out into the bright sun. She was in shock, unable to feel anything but the arms that encircled her body, and detachedly she thought of her lab at the Agency, nothing secured, and groaned. The Official was NOT going to like how much replacing all that equipment was going to cost.

After what seemed like an eternity, the arms around her set her gently on her feet, and Claire blinked in surprise. Jamie was beside her, his hand still on her elbow, and normally Claire would have had none of this chivalry business but, well- this wasn't exactly normal now, was it?

"Are you okay?" he asked her, and she nodded. The convention center looked all right, it was still standing, and people were still streaming out. Sirens pierced the air all around, and general hysteria was well represented. She took a deep calming breath and thought thank GOD that Darien and Bobby had just dropped her off, they'd be sure to arrive in a panic at any moment.

Expectantly she turned- and saw the van sitting at the curb not 50 feet away, a bright orange parking ticket flagging the windshield. "Oh my God," she choked, her hand coming up to her mouth. "Oh NO." Claire reached out and to steady herself and blindly grabbed the first thing she found- Jamie's arm.

"Dr. Keeply? What…" He followed her gaze to the van and sucked in a breath. "Darien and Bobby, right?" he said softly. Claire nodded.

"They were going to drop me off and go get something to eat, I have no idea why they'd stay here. Mr. Morgan, I have to find them…" Her voice cracked, dried out from the dust, and she dissolved into a coughing fit. Someone handed her a bottle of water and an oxygen mask; gratefully she took both. Jamie watched her anxiously until he was sure she wasn't going to pass out in front of him.

"Dr. Keeply." His voice was quiet and calm amid the chaos surrounding them. "I can help. Let me help you find your friends." He paused for a moment, obviously searching for words. "I picked up some of their personalities during the reading. Granted, it wasn't much, but- I might be able to find them with your help."

"Me? You must be kidding! I haven't got a psychic bone in my body!" Jamie's head shook slightly.

"No, that's what I'm here for. I just need you to provide me with… information. Impressions. Personalities." He touched her arm. "But it's up to you."

Indecision raged in Claire. Darien and Bobby were big boys, they could take care of themselves, but she doubted Darien had ever been in an earthquake, and Bobby was… well, Bobby was Bobby. And she was a scientist, this kind of thing simply did not just happen. Biting her lip, she relented. What harm could it do? she thought flippantly.

"Okay. What do I do?"

"Just think about them. I'll handle the rest." Jamie took her hand in his, the right supporting her left hand, palm up, the left covering it slightly so that their palms brushed. His eyes remained open but seemed to be looking at nothing, and she felt an odd sensation of heat moving through her palm. Remembering what she was supposed to do, she focused on thoughts of Darien and Bobby.

She blinked- and Jamie's eyes refocused on her face. "Claire," he said softly, and she jerked her hand away in alarm. She'd never told him her name and it wasn't on her nametag. He frowned slightly. "I can't find them," he said softly, "but something else is coming. An aftershock." He took her by the elbow and pulled her roughly across the drive as the ground heaved, tossing them both through the air effortlessly; they landed on knees and hands, clothes tearing, breath knocked free.

Claire felt her chin connect with the pavement and she bit her tongue. Swearing vividly, she tried to get up but the ground still bucked below her, preventing her from regaining her balance. Sirens wailed, people screamed, pipes burst and car horns honked frantically.

As soon as it was over Claire picked her head up, peeling her cheek away from the hot asphalt. Hair straggled in front of her eyes and she brushed it away irritably. Beside her, crawling to a sitting position, Jamie touched her shoulder. She looked up at him, read the question in his eyes, nodded silently. She raised herself to her knees and took a few deep breaths, trying to re-establish her bearings.

The road beneath them was shattered into thousands of crumbling bits of asphalt and concrete, and Claire carefully got to her feet, as wary of the traitorous ground as she was of her own wobbly knees. Jamie followed, his hand on her elbow, eyes glued to the convention center. "Come on," he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing, seeing through the shaken structure to something else. "Come _ON_." Claire watched him, his gaze raking back and forth, his hand tightening on her arm, and slowly became aware that his fingers against her skin were incredibly hot, almost burning.


	5. Chapter 5

Darien coughed, clouds of dust rising around him; foul, sticky stuff that coated his throat and lungs with a chalky paste. Making a face he spat some of the stuff out and climbed slowly to his feet, taking stock of his physical condition. A few scrapes and bumps but nothing unusual. Rubbing the back of his neck absently, he looked around.

The emergency lights had come on and pierced the gloom in twin shafts of dusty brilliance. The double steel doors he and Hobbes had come through were ten feet behind them and buckled, their tiny safety glass windows cracked and broken, and about five yards in the other direction the corridor had collapsed in a heap of concrete and rebar, broken pipes and wires. Hobbes was nowhere to be seen.

"Hobbes?" Darien spun around, looking for his partner. "Bobby! Where are you?"

"Fawkes." Bobby's voice was pained and labored- and coming from the pile of debris. Something shifted under the pile and bits of concrete rained down to reveal an arm. Swearing vividly, Darien crossed the distance in one leap and began frantically tossing pieces off the pile. After a few minutes he'd uncovered Bobby's shoulders and torso, and his partner drew a deep breath. "Thanks Fawkes. I knew you'd find me."

"Let's get you out from under this pile, huh partner?" Bobby nodded. Darien stood, looked, and suddenly felt at a loss. Bobby looked up at him from under dust-coated lashes.

"Damn it Fawkes- just grab me and pull." For lack of a better idea, Darien took Bobby's proffered hands, braced his feet against the pile of debris on either side of Bobby's shoulders, and heaved, slowly at first, then gradually increasing his effort. Bobby grimaced and his fingers tightened around Darien's, the muscles in both their arms straining. With a sudden shift Bobby slid free of the debris, and Darien dragged him the few feet across the floor to prop him against the nearest wall.

Darien looked at his partner concernedly. "Hobbes, you okay?"

Bobby's face was tight with pain and pale under his tan as he fumbled around in his jacket, expression crumbling as his hand closed around something. "Ah crap," he grumbled, pulling out the case that held the counteragent. Darien stared. The case was dented and twisted, broken beyond repair, dripping blue liquid. Hobbes pried the lid off and it clattered to the floor loudly, and it was Darien's turn to swear.

The syringe was shattered, what little counteragent remaining not soaked into the protective foam dripping through Bobby's fingers onto the concrete. "Son of a bitch," Darien snapped. Hobbes looked up at him, eyes apologetic.

"Fawkes, I'm sorry…"

"It wasn't your fault, Hobbes. Chalk it up to my continuing bad luck in life." Darien ran a hand through his hair, releasing a cloud of concrete dust. He sneezed, then turned back to Bobby. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Feels like I broke a couple of ribs here, but nothing major." Hobbes shifted, trying to get more comfortable, and his breath hissed out from between his teeth. "Damn. Let's just not do that again." He looked up at Fawkes. "Do me a favor, will ya partner? Feel right here." He indicated a spot on his stomach just below his ribcage. Gingerly, Darien reached out and did just that, first with just his fingertips. Hobbes sighed and pressed Darien's palm flat against his stomach. "What do you feel?"

"Feels… hard," Darien murmured thoughtfully, eyes drifting from his spread fingers up to Bobby's face. Hobbes' expression was troubled, and he released Darien's hand with a muffled curse. "What? Is that bad?"

"Could be," Hobbes sighed. "I saw a guy in combat once, a grenade went off and a tree fell on him. We got him out from underneath and checked him out, seemed like he had minor injuries. Time goes by and he starts getting sick, cold, trembly, going into shock." Bobby grimaced and slid down the wall, painfully arranging himself on the concrete floor. "By the time we got back to base thirty minutes later he was comatose, his stomach distended and hard as a rock from internal bleeding. He didn't make it."

"You think… oh crap, Hobbes, we gotta get you outta here." Darien started to get up but Hobbes grabbed him by the sleeve.

"Call the Keep," he said softly, fumbling in his shirt pocket for his phone. Darien reached in and picked it up, dialing Claire's number from memory.

Claire could hear her phone ringing as Jamie pulled her through the crowd. Throwing off his hand, she fumbled in her pocket, finally finding it and picking it up. "Hello?" she said.

"Keep, it's Darien."

"Darien! Oh thank God, I saw the van out here, thank goodness you're safe…" She motioned for Jamie to wait, and he stood by patiently, listening to her half of the conversation.

"That's just it, Keep- we're not." Darien kicked a chunk of concrete out of his way. "We saw some Chrysalis goons out front after you left so we grabbed some gear and followed them. We're in the basement of the center, and we're trapped. The bad guys are nowhere to be found down here, and we have no idea what they're looking for, so keep an eye out."

"Are you okay?"

"Well- I'm fine. A little scraped up and dirty, but okay." Darien turned and looked at his partner on the floor, looking up at him with troubled eyes. "Hobbes, on the other hand…" Bobby motioned for the phone and mutely Darien handed it over.

"Keep," he said shortly.

Claire put her free hand over her unused ear to block out the sirens. "Bobby? Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure, Keep. At the moment I feel fine other than a couple broken ribs, but I have a feeling there's more going on in my gut than my breakfast."

"Pressure? Pain?"

"Both."

Claire blew out a stressed out hiss between pursed lips. "Bobby, that doesn't sound good. We need to get you out of there immediately. Do you know where you are?"

The phone beeped once, and Hobbes looked at the display. The battery indicator was flashing, and he swore. "I'm almost out of juice here," he sighed, squinting at the painted text on the wall. "Uhhhh- corridor C, between doors 5 and 6," he read.

"Okay, STAY PUT. I'm going to tell the rescue workers where to find you."

"Claire…"

"Bobby, if you argue with me so help me God I'm going to strangle you." There was another beep and a long pause and Claire felt fear creeping up her throat to strangle her. "Bobby? Are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here." His voice was strangely quiet. "I just… Never mind. I'll call if our sitrep changes." He flipped off the phone and tossed it back to Darien, who regarded him with barely concealed amusement.

"Wimp."

"What?"

"You were going to tell her, weren't you?"

"Tell her what?"

Darien simply laughed. "Hobbes, you kill me."


	6. Chapter 6

_Content warning: brief "adult" encounter. Jamie and Claire locked in a closet... you do the math. :D_

* * *

Outside, Claire took a step toward the nearest rescue volunteer and was brought up short by Jamie's hand. She jerked away from him and glared balefully at his patient expression.

"Claire, you KNOW you can't involve them. If someone without clearance examines Darien…"

Her mouth fell open. "How much do you know?" she whispered. Jamie looked uncomfortable.

"Enough. Your clearance is pretty high but I don't know exactly HOW high; Darien is part of that. And he's been… altered somehow. That's why he has to have all the shots." His cool blue eyes held her panicked hazel ones steadily. "Specifics weren't part of what you permitted me."

She opened her mouth to say something, then slapped her hand over it in the horrifying realization that she was mere moments from telling this near-complete stranger about the gland in Darien's head, and the quicksilver madness that could ultimately kill him- and Hobbes. Jamie simply looked at her with that curious far-seeing gaze and she shook her head. "Please don't," she whispered.

"I don't go where I'm not invited," he said softly. "If you won't or can't tell me, I won't sneak in and steal it from you." He took a deep breath and looked around. "Your friends told you where they were, didn't they?"

"Yes…"

"Well then- let's go find them." Without hesitation Jamie went over to a nearby fire truck and started stocking up- hatchet, rope, flashlights, medical kit, water. Then, Claire in tow, he started toward the building, striding right past firemen and police guards, under the yellow tape and through the glass doors leading to the lobby. Claire was vaguely uneasy but didn't find the chance to speak until they'd stepped into a stairwell and started down.

"Mr. Morgan…"

"Jamie, please."

"All right, Jamie. I just noticed something, I wanted to ask you."

"Why no one stopped us?"

"Yes."

"They didn't see us."

Claire blinked, then let out a short bark of laughter. "How could they not?"

"They didn't see us. It's something I can do- give someone a little push in a direction so that they don't notice me. Us, rather."

"You… made us invisible?"

"Not really," Jamie continued, opening the door and holding it for Claire. She stepped into the corridor, Jamie on her heels. "It's more like following a train of thought onto a dead end- just long enough for us to get by. Say someone is looking our way, and while they're starting to look at us they see a bird. Instead of focusing on us, I 'push' them a little to think about that bird for a second."

"They get sidetracked."

"Exactly."

"Amazing. And you can do this to how many people at once?"

Jamie smiled. "I just handled over one thousand out there. It isn't hard- not anymore. I kind of broadcast it." He shrugged. "It's like sending out a radio signal that says "bird, plane, cloud, car…"

"Chrysalis…"

"Yeah, that would work."

"No, I mean CHRYSALIS!" Claire hissed, grabbing Jamie and pushing him around the corner. She'd spotted a telltale, dark suited lackey. "We have to hide," she hissed frantically. "If they find us we're as good as dead."

"Here!" Jamie threw open a nearby janitor's closet and pushed Claire inside. "This will work." He shut the door and plunged them into darkness.

Claire felt her throat tightening. "Jamie…"

"You can tell me about Chrysalis later," he whispered. "For now, be quiet and don't move."

"Jamie," she hissed, panic tasting bitter in her throat. "I can't stay in here…"

"Shh," he whispered, shifting around so that his arms came around her shoulders. "Just stay calm. I can help- will you let me?"

"Please," she choked, ashamed at how the word came out on a sob.

"Okay, just relax. Breathe with me. In- out. In- out. In-" A myriad of images flashed through Claire's mind. Pavlov. Darien. Bobby. Arnaud. Watching Darien quicksilver. Going quicksilver mad herself. Bobby's expression as he tried to thank her for her words at his 'funeral.' Giving Darien injection after injection of counteragent. Eberts and the Official. Kissing Darien. Images began to flash by at an increasing rate, traveling backwards: Darien in a straightjacket in the padded cell at the Agency, eyes bloodshot, deep in quicksilver madness. Interviewing with the Official. Research and labs and papers and kissing Kevin Fawkes in grad school. High school graduation. More research and papers and studying. Birthday parties. Field trips to the science museum. Walking to school with her Mum- and the first time she'd gone alone and nearly gotten abducted.

She could feel the grip on her arm, could taste the fear in her throat, the scream threatening to bubble up and betray them. In the scene in her head the man had no face, was just a torso and arms and big shoulders, and in her head she drew breath to scream and before it could escape someone stepped between them and broke the man's grasp. From the perspective of the little girl she used to be she looked up into the face of her rescuer- who had not rescued her during the actual event- and found herself looking at someone who looked exactly like Jamie. The man who had grabbed her vanished, evaporating like so much smoke, and the man who looked like Jamie knelt down and took her in his arms, warm, comforting, safe…

Claire blinked and found herself back in the closet- but no longer afraid. Jamie's arms were still wrapped around her shoulders, heavy and warm, his breath in her hair, and she found herself thinking that it had been along time since she'd been held and truly felt safe. He felt very solid behind her, her shoulders pressed up against his chest, the muscles in his stomach tense against her back. Her knees wobbled slightly and she shifted, inadvertently bringing them closer. His hip pressed against her gluteus and she felt an odd, almost-forgotten thrill race through her belly at his nearness. Damn, but it had been a long time since she'd allowed herself to feel anything remotely sensual.

Jamie felt Claire shift in his arms and stifled a groan. Her awareness of him was radiating from her in ever-increasing waves and hard as he tried he couldn't block it all out. Slowly but surely she was swamping him.

"Jamie…" she whispered breathlessly.

"Shh," he whispered in her ear. "It's not safe yet, they aren't gone." His breath sent a shiver down her spine. His lips stayed there, just brushing her earlobe, and Claire let the delicious little shudder that followed turn her head just enough that their lips met. Jamie let out a tiny soundless exhalation and met her halfway, lips warm and full, one hand tangling in her hair.

Images began to flash through her mind, images that she didn't recognize. It took her mere moments before she realized she was seeing things from Jamie's perspective- the room collapsing, the earthquake shattering his focus, seeing her as he gained the stage. Getting off a plane and meeting the four dour scientists. Labs and tests and questions and answers as he submitted to test after test all in the interest of the lecture. Needles and pain and blinding headaches as he refined and practiced and stretched his gift to the limits. Seeing auras and sensing secrets as early as high school, knowing he was different as young as nine. Memories flashed past so fast she could barely register them, one after another, a flood of impulses and emotions and chaos. Neither were aware that their bodies were entwined as closely as their minds, physical entities straining for the same intimacy as the psychic enjoyed, hands touching, caressing, pulling and straining. Their centers drew together, shirt buttons pulled open and hems pulled roughly out of the way so that skin could touch skin, embers of desire exploding into fiery pools. Jamie physically lifted Claire off the ground and pressed her back into the cold concrete wall, her legs wrapping around his waist reflexively, her fingers tangled in his hair, her mouth fixed to his.

Through the intensity storming between them something intruded and the connection shattered as Jamie's attention was diverted from her to the outside world again. Just outside the door he heard footsteps, voices- and someone put their hand on the door. Without breaking their kiss, Jamie tensed slightly. Claire heard an ethereal whisper chanting _"Don't stop. Door locked. Walk away. Don't stop…"_

"It's locked, no one could have gotten in. Let's go."

The footsteps faded and silenced. Jamie relaxed and released Claire, dropping her gently to the ground. Straightening her clothing, she suddenly she felt very foolish. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Jamie chuckled slightly as he opened the door a crack and peered outside as he absently re-buttoned his shirt.

"No problem. I suppose I should apologize as well."

"No no, it was me…"

"Trust me- it wasn't just you." He looked up at her from his half-bent position. "Anyway, we have one question answered."

"What's that?"

"I know what they're looking for. It's me."

"What?"

"I took the liberty of scanning them as they passed."

Claire folded her arms and pursed her lips in a thoughtful expression. "I thought you said you didn't go where you weren't invited."

"I made an exception in this case. Their surface intentions were easy enough to read, and since they were not good, I figured probing a little deeper to find out why wasn't unconscionable." Jamie sighed and straightened, shifting the gear around him. "So I now know about Chrysalis, and Stark- and why they want me."

"And that would be what?" Claire felt her stomach flip flop in apprehension.

"Standard covert ops stuff, any advantage they can gain over their enemies. Which seems to be- you. Your Agency, anyway."

Claire chewed her lip thoughtfully. "You know, if you know too much we MAY just have to kill you."

"I doubt it." Jamie broke into a grin. "I'll just have to enter witness protection- which would have happened anyway once the Official found out that Chrysalis is after me. Tell you what- it'll be our little secret."

Claire found herself smiling despite her apprehension. "Deal."

Jamie took one last look down the corridor. "Coast is clear. Let's go." He extended a hand and, after a moment's hesitation, Claire took it and followed him.


	7. Chapter 7

Darien paused and frowned, the laughter he'd felt bubbling up dying in his throat. Bobby blinked. "What is it?" he asked in a whisper, wincing. Darien waved him silent and slunk to the door. Bobby struggled to sit up, grimacing but managing to shift to a more upright position. "Fawkes…"

"Shhhh!" Darien hissed, trying to peer between the cracks in the spider-webbed safety glass windows. Movement, dark fabric, a flash of white… He sucked in a breath and flattened himself against the wall. "Chrysalis," he hissed, thinking quickly. From what he'd seen they didn't have thermals; he didn't think they knew he was here, which could work to his- and Bobby's- advantage. He stole a quick glance down at his monitor and choked back a curse. He had at least a day if he didn't go see thru, but if he did there would only be precious minutes. He looked from his wrist to Bobby, who regarded him with calm eyes.

Mind made up, Darien crawled across the floor to his partner. "Hobbes, I'm gonna do it."

Bobby shook his head. "I can't let you do that, partner. They can take me. You go transparent and let them find me… Chrysalis won't get nothin' out of Bobby Hobbes."

"Absolutely not." Darien stole a quick glance over his shoulder. The operatives were talking back and forth, their voices getting louder, and Darien decided they couldn't wait any longer. "Here we go."

"Fawkes, I can't let you do this and go berserk on me, the Keep would kill me."

"Hobbes, if I don't do this and they take you, I'll kill me." Without another word Darien let the quicksilver loose, covering Bobby first then himself. The operatives came closer, their voices ringing in the concrete halls.

"…could have sworn I saw that rinky-dink Agency van out there."

"Get over it! You're more paranoid than that agent Hobbes. There's no reason for them to be here; the Fat Man doesn't want anything to do with something he can't see or touch. His loss; if what they say about this Morgan guy is true, all this will be worth the bonus we get from Stark when we bring him in." There was a pause, then the sound of someone pushing at the door. "See anything?"

"No." The door groaned and rattled. "Windows are shot to hell, but all I see is busted up concrete and pipes. No psychic."

"He's a telepath, you moron. You should know the difference."

"Let's go." It was said in a grumble, irritated and annoyed at being made fun of. The footsteps receded and Darien held out as long as he could before letting the quicksilver go.

"Fawkes." Darien's head came up and he blinked at his partner lying prone on the floor. With a suppressed groan Darien unfolded his chilled, stiff legs and knelt next to Bobby, his partner's eyes closing.

"They're gone now. They aren't even after me, Bobby, did you hear that? They want the guy the Keeper came to see." Bobby's eyes drifted shut and panic rose in Darien's throat. "Come on Bobby, stay with me."

"I'm tryin', Fawkes. But I'm cold… and tired…" Darien shucked off his jacket and draped it across Hobbes. He never claimed to be a doctor but even he could figure out that Bobby was going into shock.

"Hobbes, you gotta hang on. Look." He held up his wrist. Bobby opened his eyes slightly, saw the tattoo, and a tiny smile cracked his face.

"You… quicksilver mad… oh God…" The sound that emerged was a wheezing laugh that dissolved into a coughing fit. "Wonderful."

"Talk to me, Bobby. You gotta help me stay sane here." Darien rubbed the back of his neck, trying to will the pain away. He knew that by now his eyes must be good and red- and the only thing keeping him from flipping out was his concern for Bobby. Concentrate on that, he told himself over and over. Worry about Bobby, think about Hobbes, and ignore the pain…

"Not sure… if I can, Fawkes." Bobby's words were down to a whisper. "Keep… coming?"

"She was trying, Bobby. Come on, think about Claire. She'll be here any minute. You don't want to make her cry at another funeral, do you?" Hobbes wheezed again, and Darien fumbled for the cell phone. It was almost dead, he knew, but he had to try. He flipped it open and pushed the numbers for Claire's phone.


	8. Chapter 8

Claire jumped when her phone rang. Frantic, she answered. "Bobby?"

"No, it's me." Darien's voice sounded strained.

"Darien? I thought the phone was dead." She was at a near run behind Jamie, who somehow found enough energy to sprint headlong down the halls carrying at least fifty pounds of rescue equipment.

"It is, almost. Look, Keep, we're both in bad shape here, Hobbes is fading fast and I'm fighting QSM." Darien looked at Bobby, who made a small, desperate gesture with his hand, his lips moving silently. "What? Hobbes?"

"Phone," Hobbes rasped, his eyes pleading. Darien wordlessly handed it over. "Claire…"

"Bobby! Don't talk, you have to stay calm and quiet, I think you have internal bleeding." They had reached the mangled double doors Bobby had described to them earlier, and Claire rose on tiptoe to try and see through the spiderwebbed safety glass.

"No. Claire, I have to… have to tell you something." His breathing was labored and harsh, even through the phone, and Claire thought her heart was going to break.

"No Bobby, you don't. We're almost there, just a minute longer." Jamie's hand on her shoulder pulled her away from the doors.

"Claire, I…"

"I know, Bobby. Give the phone back to Darien."

"Claire…"

"Bobby, please- just give the phone back to Darien." Hobbes dropped the phone to the floor with a clatter, eyes closing, fingers limp. Furious, Darien snatched the phone up.

"Why didn't you let him tell you?"

"Darien, calm down, you need to stay calm for as long as possible, Bobby needs you."

"Dammit Claire! Stop being a doctor and be a HUMAN BEING for once!" Darien felt the last strands of control slipping, his anger snapping the slender threads of sanity. The quicksilver madness broke free and surged up, overriding everything, drowning his concern for his partner in a blind rage at the Keeper's callous behavior. The phone beeped and Darien ground his teeth together, a furious inhuman growl escaping from between his lips as Jamie swung the axe at the damaged door.

"Darien, please, you have to stay focused, Bobby needs you…" Claire listened to Darien's rough breathing as the phone beeped one last time and died. With a howl of rage Darien flung the phone at the door.

His eyes closing, Bobby let out a small sigh of breath and seemed to shrink into himself.

Jamie paused, his breathing suddenly rough and uneven, and he looked at Claire with horror all over his face. She took a step back. "Jamie? Are you okay?"

"Oh my God," he wheezed, face pale. "I can feel him. Darien. I know it's him but it feels like he's drowning…" He looked at Claire, expression horrified. "What's been done to him?"

"I can't explain right now, we just have to get to him!" Claire urged. "Please Jamie- I'll explain it later." Shaken, Jamie heaved the axe over his head, and brought it down on the lock again with no effect. Squaring his shoulders, Jamie swung the axe again and the door burst open and crashed to the floor, raising a cloud of concrete dust. Claire and Jamie coughed, struggling to see, and everything was silent- then a quiet, wicked chuckle emanated from the gloom.

"Just who I wanted to see." Darien stepped out of the dust, eyes bloodshot and unblinking. He grinned maniacally at Claire. "How ya doin', Keep?" he drawled- then launched himself across the floor like a cat.

Claire shrieked and stumbled back as Darien's hands closed around her shoulders, then suddenly someone was between them.

Jamie's icy blue eyes met Darien's mad bloodshot sable. "Let go," he growled. Darien smiled.

"Okay." Darien released Claire, who scurried around him to Bobby. Jamie's eyes never left Darien's, and the two men circled each other warily. "Didja bring a shot, Keep?" Darien said softly over his shoulder.

"The last batch was finishing up in the lab and wasn't ready when we left; we have to get you back to the Agency," she replied distractedly, taking Bobby's pulse. She looked up. "We don't have much time. He's weakening."

"You ran out of time already," Darien murmured. "If you hadn't noticed." Without warning he lunged for Jamie. Jamie didn't flinch, just let Darien's fingers close around his throat. Claire let out of helpless cry as Darien began to squeeze.

"Jamie! Try to calm him down!" Claire's voice echoed in the corridor, bouncing off the floor and ricocheting off the walls as she frantically checked as many of Hobbes' vitals as she could. With an inhuman effort Jamie managed to twist under Darien and the pair rolled over, locked together. The finally came to rest a few feet away, positions reversed with Jamie now on top and Darien on the floor.

"Sure thing," he grunted, "Get right on it." Darien thrashed and twisted beneath Jamie like a snake, and Jamie was finding it as difficult to get a grip on his mind as it was on his body. Somehow Darien's knee got beneath Jamie and with a grunt he sent the shorter man flying.

Jamie hit the wall hard and slumped. Darien was on him immediately, his throat in his hands, and he began to squeeze. Claire leaped to her feet, hands bunched in fists, helpless. "Darien! Let him go! Darien! Listen to me, godammit!"

Darien froze and turned his crimson eyes to Claire. "Now why in the world would I listen to you?" he said softly, almost sweetly, rising to his feet and leaving Jamie in a gasping heap on the floor. He took a step toward Claire, and she stepped back, bumping into Bobby. "When it's your fault this damn thing is STILL IN MY HEAD?"

Darien lunged.

Claire jumped.

Darien stumbled, tried to catch himself, started to straighten- but out of nowhere Jamie's hand shot out and hooked Darien's ankle. Darien crashed to the floor in a tangled mess of arms and legs, roaring in surprise and frustration as Jamie hauled him bodily away from Claire and Bobby. Darien writhed and fought, kicking and punching, finally catching Jamie on the cheekbone with a well-placed heel. Growling in pain, Jamie let go and both men scrambled to their feet, but this time Jamie's shorter stature served to his advantage. He stabilized quicker and launched himself at the still-rising Darien, catching Darien's face fast between his hands. The two men locked eyes and both froze. The quiet was startling. Jamie's expression twisted slightly, almost painfully, his teeth baring, breath hissing between them. Darien tried to pull away but Jamie's fingers were fused into his skull, burning, Jamie's eyes all he could see…

Claire stepped closer to the pair, wondering. Darien suddenly stiffened and began to quicksilver starting at his feet. Claire watched in fascination as the band of quicksilver moved up his body in a wave about a foot wide, flaking off as it progressed. The band moved up Darien's torso, engulfed his shoulders and head, shattered and moved across Jamie's arms and did the same in reverse, ending at Jamie's feet.


	9. Chapter 9

As the last bit fell to the floor Jamie released Darien, who stumbled once and just sort of folded to the floor in a boneless heap. Jamie staggered back against the opposite wall, one hand on his head, the other holding him up, and Claire swore and crawled to Darien to take his vitals. "What did you do?" she demanded of Jamie, who simply stood where he was, head down, face still partially covered by his one hand, the other gripping a nearby pipe to keep him from falling on his face. He was breathing heavily, eyes closed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"I helped him- and us," Jamie said softly, opening his eyes. Claire gasped. Bloodshot blue eyes stared back at her. "You know, when I first sensed Darien's madness it frightened me," he said softly, taking slow steps, one at a time, closer and closer to Claire. When he got close enough to touch her, Claire went to move away- and found she was rooted to the spot. "But now- oh Claire, you should feel it. What I could do before is nothing compared to what I can do now." Jamie trailed a finger across her jaw, his mouth brushing her cheek. "I could kill you where you stand with just a thought," he whispered. Claire squeezed her eyes shut and bit back a terrified whimper as Jamie's teeth nipped her earlobe, then abruptly he froze and cocked his head as though listening. "Someone's coming," Jamie whispered with a manic grin, stepping between Claire and Darien and the hallway. Claire heard faint footsteps as Darien began to stir.

"Oh crap," he groaned, struggling to an elbow. "What the hell…" Claire stared at him, stunned, and Darien blinked. "What?"

Claire grabbed his wrist and turned it over to see the tattoo. The snake was completely green. Darien stared, met her eyes, blinked again.

"You gave me a shot- right?"

"No." She turned to stare at Jamie's back. The footsteps were getting closer, and Darien staggered to his feet, Claire rising behind him. She bent over Hobbes, found his gun, drew and cocked it. Jamie turned to stare at her.

"Put it down," he hissed. Claire's lips tightened.

"No."

"I said PUT IT DOWN!" Jamie roared. The gun wrenched out her hands and flew across the hallway to land perfectly in Jamie's hand. He turned back just as the first Chrysalis operative emerged around the corner. The operative paused, saw Jamie, Claire, and Darien, and drew his pistol at a full run.

Darien looked behind him at Claire, then at the pile of rubble behind them. There was nowhere to run, and suddenly a whole troop of operatives were filling the hallway, coming closer and closer and closer.

"Uh, don't you think we should do something?" Darien asked dryly. Jamie ignored him, concentration riveted on the approaching horde.

"'We' are," Jamie growled. His feet braced and his head lowered until he was looking out from under his eyebrows, teeth bared in a feral smile. The telepath wasn't moving, allowing the operatives to approach more and more closely. His left hand came up- and the first two operatives burst into flame. The flames were painfully bright and Darien winced, covering his eyes with his arm. The smell of burning flesh assailed his nose and he nearly gagged, blinking past the spots in his eyes to see Jamie, unscathed and immobile, still standing.

"Holy shit," Darien breathed. There were no screams; the two operatives simply flared into white-hot fireballs and disintegrated, leaving behind two tiny piles of ash. The remainder of the unit skidded to a halt as Jamie turned his attention to them.

Two more operatives were blasted into charcoal before the rest could move. The remaining agents leaped into action, skirting the smoldering remains of their comrades and coming at Jamie at a full run. Darien took a step forward as the first Chrysalis agent reached Jamie, intending to help- and the agent went flying backward at incredible velocity, striking the cement wall with a sickening bone-breaking crunch. He slid limply to the floor amid a shower of concrete dust and left a red smear on the site of impact.

The last agents- all five of them- reached Jamie at once. It was like watching a blitz at a football game, the quarterback crumpling under a tide of linebackers- only this quarterback threw them off without moving a muscle, sending men flying through the air in every direction with deadly intent. Four men hit the walls, ceiling, floor, and stayed where they landed, still and silent.

The last agent grappled with Jamie, the knowledge of his imminent death bright in his eyes, and Jamie simply let the agent throttle him, an eerily pleased smile on his face. Faster than thought Jamie's hands came up and grabbed the agent by the head, just as he'd done with Darien. The agent stiffened and tried to jerk away but Jamie held him fast, his bloodshot eyes burning holes into the other man's face.

"Welcome to the rabbit hole," Jamie rasped, the Chrysalis agent spasming under his palms. Jamie's eyes closed and Darien watched, fascinated and horrified, as the quicksilver started at his feet, just as it had with Darien. It traveled up and over and onto the Chrysalis operative- and then Jamie let go. The operative slumped, staggered, kept his feet, and straightened, QSM bloodshot eyes focusing on Jamie. With a snarl he launched himself at the telepath.

Jamie's hand came up, fingers tight around Bobby's gun, and unflinchingly he squeezed the trigger. Darien winced as the gun went off. The Chrysalis operative jerked once, took another step, and fell to the floor, a single bullet hole set neatly in the center of his forehead.

Darien exhaled, unaware he'd been holding his breath. He slowly became of Claire at his shoulder, her breath ragged and terrified, and he turned to her. Her hair hung in dusty strands around her face and in her eyes, and her face was horrified and stunned. Jamie stood still, head drooping, staring at the body of the operative he'd shot, and then turned to Darien and Claire. Claire grabbed Darien by the arm, her fear radiating in waves through his bicep, and they both took a step back as Jamie turned his eyes to them.

They were silver now, but not the silver Darien's had been once he'd reached stage 5. Jamie's whites were clear. It was his irises that looked like mirrors, depthless and deep all at once, with no pupils. He blinked and carefully settled Bobby's gun into the waistband of his pants. "Let's go," he ground out hoarsely. He stepped over the corpse of the last agent and moved past Darien and Claire staring numbly to pick up Hobbes' still form with the utmost of care. "I can help him if we get out of here now."

Darien and Claire stared as Jamie strode past them with Bobby in his arms. Jamie threaded his way through the bodies of the Chrysalis agents and paused just before he turned the corner, his weird silver eyes turning to them. "Coming?" he rasped. Wordlessly they made their way past the broken bodies, stepping carefully to avoid the puddles of blood spreading on the floor. Jamie waited until they'd reached him, and motioned for them to go for past. Hesitantly, they did, Darien keeping himself between Claire and Jamie, casting a concerned look at Hobbes' motionless body.

Jamie watched them for a moment, until he was sure they wouldn't see what he was about to do, then he turned back to the carnage-ridden corridor. With a sigh he sent a single thought and the entire hallway exploded into a white-hot inferno. Ahead of him, Darien and Claire froze and turned around, eyes squinting in the glare. Wordlessly Jamie walked past them, his thoughts now turned inward to Bobby and his struggling life, and led them out of the subterranean tunnels into the sunlight and past the emergency workers.

Darien stared openly as they strode purposefully past firemen and policemen, no one taking any notice of the dusty, battered quartet. "What the hell…" he murmured. Claire's fingers tightened on his arm.

"Don't ask, just keep walking," she hissed from between her teeth. The Agency's van was still parked where he and Hobbes had left it, and Jamie carefully placed Bobby's still form inside the cargo area and climbed inside. Claire climbed into the passenger seat and Darien wordlessly assumed driver duties. The silence in the van as they pulled away was deafening.


	10. Chapter 10

"Jamie." Claire's voice was quiet. "Jamie, I want to check on Bobby."

"Not now."

"I need to see how he's doing, assess his injuries…"

"I said _NOT NOW_ Claire." There was a pause during which Darien could only hear breathing, although whose- his own or Claire's, Jamie's or Bobby's- he couldn't determine. Claire chewed on her lip, a hint of rebellion creeping into her eyes, but it died quickly and she settled sullenly back into the seat.

As Darien drove, Jamie could sense the panic and frustration in him. He smiled to himself and gave Darien credit for keeping his cool and not tearing through the streets like a maniac. Claire was angry too, and it was that which gave Jamie pause. He wished there were another way.

Sighing, he turned his attentions back to Hobbes, sinking his consciousness deeper and deeper into the agent's own psyche. In his current state, Bobby had no barriers, and Jamie could see his life laid out in front of him like a map. A great deal of pain, confusion, and paranoia was strewn about at various points, but there were a few bright spots of hope and affection as well. Jamie was not surprised to find that the brightest hovered around thoughts of Darien, whom Bobby seemed to regard as a kid brother, and Claire. Throat constricting, he delved deeper, submersing himself in the most basic of Bobby's functions- heart beating, lungs breathing, blood flowing… He traveled through the bloodstream finding the vessels and organs that had been damaged, repairing them gently with the most delicate of thoughts. Slowly, despite the bumping over intersections and sliding around corners, Bobby began to stabilize.

Jamie drew out back into himself, tired beyond anything he'd ever felt before. He let out a breath and opened his eyes with effort, knowing that Claire was looking at him, and that he owed her the basic courtesy of eye contact. She met his eyes with a slightly perturbed yet concerned gaze, then dropped her eyes to Hobbes.

Bobby's head was in Jamie's lap, a position the agent would no doubt find discomfiting if he were conscious. His breathing was steady and deep, and Claire mentally calculated the rate and found it well within normal. Jamie returned her direct gaze evenly, his eerie mirrored irises emanating reassurance.

"He'll be fine," he said softly. Claire didn't move, and with another deep sigh Jamie closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the cool metal side of the van. Of it's own accord his mind emptied, nothing existing except the sway of the floor and the hum of the tires.

Darien thought of using the back entrance on his own, which was good; Jamie wasn't sure he had enough left to even provide the slightest of pushes at the moment. He roused himself enough to open the door and carry Hobbes down to the Keep, Claire leading the way and Darien following anxiously.

Jamie settled Bobby onto the gurney and sank out of the way as Claire busied herself checking Hobbes' injuries. Darien barely noticed Jamie sinking into the chair the Keeper used to give him his shots, one arm covering his eyes, breaths coming slow and deep.

Claire took Bobby's pulse, checked his lungs, got a blood pressure reading, all the while the frown on her face deepening. Darien stepped back as she flew around the gurney frantically. "What? What is it? Claire?" After a moment of further frenetic activity, she practically threw down her stethoscope and spun to face Jamie accusingly. Darien looked from Bobby lying quietly on the gurney, to Claire glaring furiously at Jamie, to Jamie sitting silently on the exam chair with his forearm shielding his eyes. Darien tried one more time. "Keep? Is he okay? Is… is Hobbes okay?"

"He's FINE," she ground out. "As far as I can tell he has no apparent injuries, no abnormalities in his vital signs anywhere." She stepped toward Jamie. "He's just… sleeping."

"But how… I mean, I was there, I saw him go down, I saw how he looked and he went into shock and…" Darien's voice trailed off. "…and I went QSM and then…"

"I absorbed it," came Jamie's voice from under his arm. "I absorbed the quicksilver in your blood and it… changed me." His arm fell away and his silver eyes shone at Darien and Claire. "I'd never been able to do any of that before- move things, start fires, KILL people. And now I can." He looked unblinkingly at Darien. "I'm not sure whether to thank you or curse you for it. All I know is… it's horrible, that madness."

"Tell me about it," Darien muttered.

"And I wish I could help you remove it."

Darien's head snapped up. "You could do that? Help me? I mean, get this gland out of my head?"

Jamie's metallic eyes glinted. "I could. But I won't."

Darien flew across the room and grabbed Jamie by the shirt. "Son of a BITCH!" His fist flew of it's own accord and found Jamie's cheek with a resounding CRACK. Jamie didn't move, didn't stop Darien's strike, just sat and took it, and when it was over and Darien was left gasping in fury Jamie simply turned his head and regarded him with those eerie mirrored eyes.

"You have every right," he said softly. "I can't blame you your anger. But you have to listen to me while I explain."

"I don't WANT an explanation, I want this damn thing out of my head!" Darien roared, releasing Jamie and stalking to the other side of the Keep. Jamie's eyes followed him and he began speaking.

"Darien." Jamie's voice was soft. "I can't. Think about it. If Chrysalis ever found out the madness could be controlled without counteragent… if they found out how the quicksilver affected my talents… That I could take out the gland, replicate it, put in someone else without using a scalpel…" His voice trailed off and Darien raised his head to look at Jamie with anguished eyes.

Claire's mouth dropped open, her eyes lighting up with hope. "You could do that?"

Jamie didn't look at her, kept his eyes trained on Darien. He knew that if he met her eyes his resolve would crumble. "That's why I had to kill them, Darien. No one can know. And you I'm right."

"Crap." He knew that Jamie was right- and it killed him.

Jamie sighed deeply and ran his hand through his hair, still refusing to meet Claire's gaze. "I deeply regret what I have to do now more than anything."

Claire frowned again, this time in confusion, and Darien began to creep back across the room as the meaning of Jamie's words slowly penetrated his frustration. "What do you mean, what you have to do now? What else do you have to do?"

Jamie got up from the chair, stepped forward, and placed his hand on Claire's arm. "I'm so sorry, Claire. I wish you could retain some memory of what happened, of what I was, but it's far too dangerous for all of us." He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead, then stepped back and drew a deep breath, his silver eyes going dark and unfocused as Darien launched himself at Jamie in a desperate lunge.

"NO!"


	11. Finale

The Official waltzed into the Keep. Darien looked up, expression unreadable as Claire withdrew the syringe from his elbow, and he curled his arm habitually around the cotton ball.

"Well, look who's here," Claire said brightly, moving around the chair to dispose of the syringe. Darien stayed put, eyes following the Official, who took in both Darien's and the Keeper's disheveled appearances with narrowed eyes.

"What happened to you?" The Official cast another glance around the Keep, eyes finally finding the gurney with Hobbes on it. His expression darkened. "And what's with Sleeping Beauty?"

"Well, Bobby and Darien talked me into getting a bite before dropping me off at the convention center. We were in the middle of eating when the earthquake hit. We all got a bit banged up, I'm afraid, and Bobby was rather rattled. But we got him back here and I managed to sedate him a bit; he'll be fine."

"Ah. Well then." The Official looked around the Keep. "Things seem to have pulled through rather well around here. Good. Well. Claire, have Darien and Bobby report to Eberts when they're both ready." With that, the Official turned around and left.

Claire turned back to Darien. "Feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. I must have gotten clobbered on the noggin though- my whole head hurts." He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, trying to massage away the pain.

"Me too." Claire absently kneaded her shoulder. "Oh well. Off you go. I'll let Bobby wake up on his own and send him home for at least a days' rest- doctor's orders. So- enjoy your day off."

"Thanks Keep." Darien slid out of the chair and padded toward the door. As it slid open, he unbent his elbow to toss the cotton ball in the trash like he always did.

The ball came away from his arm clean, and Darien frowned and turned it over, looking for the bright spot of blood that was always there and finding nothing. He prodded his inner elbow, examining it closely. No sore spot, no tiny bead of blood welling up. Frowning, he turned his wrist over and blinked at the all-green tattoo.

"Darien?" He looked up, Claire's questioning eyes meeting his from the other side of the Keep. "Is something wrong?"

"No," he replied quickly, dropping the cotton ball into the basket and shoving his hands into his pockets. "Nothing. See ya later, Keep."

Darien stepped into the hallway and the door swooshed shut behind him. Humming to himself he sauntered down the gleaming linoleum, right past a shadow watching him with mirrored eyes, and after he rounded the corner the shadow stepped out into the hall. Jamie pulled a pair of sunglasses over his metallic irises and paused briefly, turning to the key-carded door of the Keep and placing a spread-fingered hand on the steel plates. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head for a moment. Then regretfully he pulled his fingers back, shoved his hands into his pockets, and followed Darien's path down the corridor and around the corner.

Inside the Keep Claire paused in her work and looked up with a frown. She pushed her hair back and stood up, computer and work forgotten, and stepped toward the door. It slid open and she leaned into the hallway, hands gripping the doorjamb, peering into the shadows and seeing nothing but empty corridor.

Shaking her head at herself she turned and went back inside, the door to the Keep sliding shut silently behind her.


End file.
